Only You, Severus Snape
by LoveHGSS
Summary: Summary – Hermione receives a harsh reality check about her marriage to Ron, and Severus Snape is there to pick up the pieces.


Summary – Hermione receives a harsh reality check about her marriage to Ron, and Severus Snape is there to pick up the pieces.

To everyone in the Harry Potter fandom, I'm so sorry for being away for so long. I've truly missed writing these two together, and I hope I don't disappoint with this piece I've been working on for longer than I care to admit.

**Warning – 18 and over **_**only**_**, please. Cursing, sexual content.**

Severus Snape was not a nice man. He never claimed to be, either. On the contrary, he openly admitted it. Some may say he even wore his rudeness proudly. Of anyone, Hermione Granger was aware of this. She dealt with the man on a daily basis, always having to hear his complaints on her teaching, her too-soft discipline, her too-baggy robes.

"How could you possibly think you are teaching safe practices to dimwits if you aren't even doing it yourself?" he'd ask her.

She would huff and fume, but never did she disobey him. Never once did she stick up for herself, nor did she ever ignore his commands. Hermione Granger was a smart woman. She knew she was on thin ice from the day he agreed to apprentice her some five years ago. Now she was the fulltime Potions professor, him the Headmaster. She didn't dare question him, valuing her job too much to lose it. Her husband, Ron, never liked it. He hated that she was away most of the year, hated that he was alone three nights a week. He hated that she would be too tired to pamper him, to do what _he_ wanted. She always listened to Severus, but she would be damned if she was going to take orders from someone who barely lifted a wand to help with the house chores. No, sir, not her.

"Bloody hell, Hermione, you'll shorten your sleeves, change caldrons, take posters down for _Snape_, but you won't even wear a sexy outfit for me, your husband?" Ron asked one night after one of their better fights.

Hermione had slammed her hand on the kitchen table, fed up. "No, Ronald, I will not be subjected to feeling like a whore in my own house!" she said through gritted teeth.

"You do everything he wants!" he shouted back, his face beginning to color with anger. "What if he asked you to wear something like that?"

"What?" she shrieked. "That doesn't make any sense!"

"It makes perfect sense!" he retorted. She rolled her eyes. "You're his little puppet but you don't give into anything _I_ want!"

"He doesn't demean me by asking me to look sexier!"

Ron groaned, running his hands through his shaggy red hair. "I just meant it would be nice to switch things up," he said, his tone softer than before.

Hermione didn't calm, though. "Would you wear something with frills and lace?" she asked heatedly.

"Merlin, no!" he responded instantly.

"Then why should _I_?" she demanded.

Ron spluttered, and Hermione took that as her cue to leave. She didn't know why she was putting up such a fuss, but she was just so _tired_. She was tired of being pushed around, of feeling like she was spread so thin she'd disappear if she let it go on any longer. Ron didn't ask her where she was going as she packed a small bag and headed toward the door. She didn't so much as glance back at him as she slammed the door to their small home, her modest heels clicking along the stone walk as she marched to an Apparition point.

The tears didn't start until she was in her teaching quarters, but she paid them no mind. She seemed to be crying a lot lately. Ron and her had been fighting everyday for almost a year, and her time spent at home seemed to be less and less. Mostly it was because of his drinking. She blamed herself sometimes, knowing her long hours and disinterest in sexual activities slowly driving him deeper and deeper into alcoholism. Her heart broke for him, but his hateful words and his borderline physical abuse to her didn't allow her to cry in front of him.

There had been times where Hermione had bolted from their home, afraid Ron would finally snap and just hit her. He had thrown things, broken things, punched things, but had never laid a hand on her. She loved him, she really, really did. But for the past year, she had questioned whether it was enough. She shook her head, knowing the answer but refusing to believe it. She was dedicated to things, anyone could attest to that, but she didn't know when to give up.

Hermione had loved him from such a young age she wasn't sure she'd be able to live without him. She may be independent, but she wasn't sure she could go to her house and not see his face as she walked in the door, not hear his quiet laugh when she'd become frustrated while grading papers. He might not be the most attentive husband, but he did love her, that much was obvious. The light in his eyes when he looked at her had dimmed slowly over the past few years, but there was still… _something_. They'd been happy at one time, but the bad things that had happened in the last year were beginning to overpower the good.

She grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill from her desk, seating herself in the large, swiveling chair. She took a deep breath and dipped her quill into the ink before posing it above the parchment, unsure where to start. Just as the tip of it touched the paper, she heard knocking at her door. She laid down her quill and pushed away from her desk, quickly swiping at her eyes. She performed a quick cleaning charm on her face, hoping it would clear any smeared makeup. Hermione took another deep breath, smoothing her hands over her white blouse and black skirt before grabbing the handle to the door.

Once the door was opened, Hermione instinctively took a step back. Ron was standing there, his blue sweater crumbled and his red hair in disarray. His eyes were drooping and his face was nearly as red as his hair. He was angry. Not just angry… livid. Hermione took note of his clenched fists and the unmistakable stench of Firewhiskey. He took a step toward her and she took one back, her heart suddenly pounding within her chest. She had never seen him that drunk, that angry. The crazed expression he wore wiped away the person Hermione had known before. The only thing she saw were his eyes, which were trained upon hers, a glint in them that she had never seen.

"Ron," she breathed out.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, as if to control himself from speaking rashly. When he did speak, however, his words were quiet, tight, and slurred. "Hermione, my _wife_," he said.

"Ron," she said again, "you're drunk."

He opened his eyes and Hermione nearly gasped. They were dark and dangerous, not even a speck of love hidden within them. She watched as his jaw muscles clenched.

"Hermione," he bit out, "how could you?"

"How could I what?" she asked, a slight tremor to her voice.

"I finally caught on," he said with a humorless laugh. "I've finally got it figured out."

"What are you going on about, Ron?" she said, trying her best to keep the terror from her voice as he took another step toward her.

"You're screwing him," he spat. "With that slithering git; you're fucking him."

"Ronald!" she reprimanded immediately, but then she actually took in what he said. "With Severus? You think I'm… that I… that I'm having sex with Severus?"

"I know you are," he said, his eyes narrowing. "Listen to you. Just the way you say his name."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" she exclaimed.

"You fancied him back in school, don't deny it. You told me once you thought he was attractive. I remember."

Hermione quickly wracked her brain and nearly gasped as she realized he was right. She had been drunk and he had asked her what teacher she had liked the best, and she said Severus because of the way he carried such power with such grace. He had laughed it off and had never brought it up again. Yet there he was, more than three years later, throwing it in her face.

"I most certainly am not!" she shouted, her hands going to her hips. "How dare you say something like that?"

"Don't you lie to me!" he yelled, quickly closing the space between them and roughly grabbing her arm.

"Ow, Ron, you're hurting me," she said, trying to pull her arm back.

"Hah! You've broken my heart, Hermione, and you're complaining about me hurting your arm?"

"Ron, you're drunk," she said, trying to reason with him, even though she was utterly terrified. "Why don't you sleep it off and we'll talk in the morning?"

"No!" he shouted, gripping her arm harder yet, causing her to wince in pain. "I've never thought more clearly in my entire life. You haven't even denied it!"

"What?" she squeaked out. "Yes I did! I am not sleeping with Severus!"

Ron let her arm go with a hard shove, nearly knocking her to the ground. "Liar," he whispered harshly.

Hermione flinched, the weight of his stare becoming too much. "Ron, listen to me, we can talk about this, you just need to sober up first."

"No!" he screamed, and Hermione barely had time to duck as a vase with roses from her mother flew by where her head was and smashed into the wall a foot behind her. "You're a bloody whore! A cheating, evil, whore!"

"Ron," she cried, standing back up, "please! Please, you aren't like this! You aren't like this when you aren't drunk! Please! Stop!"

"Stop?" he asked. "Stop? You want _me_ to stop? You deserve this, Hermione! You've been sleeping with Snape!"

Ron's eyes became nearly black as he walked toward her again. Hermione went for her wand, but Ron was faster. He tore it from her hand and pinned her against the wall, her head slamming roughly against the stone, causing stars to burst from behind her eyes.

"Please," she whimpered. "Ron, we're married, I would never hurt you."

"You hate me," he hissed, his mouth right near her ear. "You don't ever come home, you don't want to do things with me. You're too busy making sure your lover gets off so you can keep this bloody job!"

Before Hermione could reply, Ron stepped away from her just a little bit, his arm swinging back, his hand open. She recoiled and shut her eyes, preparing for the blow she always feared. She could practically see his hand coming back down, but just before it landed across her face, all the weight that was against her was suddenly gone. In slow motion, she opened her eyes just in time to see Ron's body hit the floor. Her hands went to her open mouth as she saw the reasoning for what had just happened.

Severus.

He was standing in the doorway, turned just ever so slightly, his wand still pointing at where he had fired the curse. Blind rage was written all over his face, but the moment he looked at Hermione, it drained as quickly as she was sure it had come. After seeing that look, she suddenly wondered if he had killed Ron. She hadn't heard or saw the curse, and she honestly wouldn't have been surprised. She dropped to her knees, her trembling hands shifting Ron so she could check on him. Just as she felt a pulse beneath her fingers, she was torn away from him, strong arms ripping her away from Ron's body.

"Let me go!" she screamed.

"Be silent."

Hermione instantly obeyed, that calm, low, commanding voice leaving her no room to argue. Her body all but gave out on her as the realization of what had just happened caught up with her. Severus easily supported her weight, tightly holding her shuddering body to his own. She clutched his black-robed arms that were wrapped around her middle, clawing at the material, seeking purchase on both the fabric and her sanity, which was slowly slipping. Severus held her tighter, his heart breaking as her breath hitched time and time again.

Through her hysterics, she heard him mumble, or possibly scream, she wasn't sure, something into the empty room. A loud pop rang throughout room but Hermione paid it no mind. She didn't care what was going on around her, couldn't bring herself to even open her eyes.

"Please remove Mr. Weasley," she heard Severus say. "Take him directly to the Ministry. Contact Mr. Potter and tell him I shall be speaking with him later."

"Yes, Master Severus."

An elf, Hermione vaguely realized. A quiet shuffling and another bang told her that the elf had complied without needing any further instructions.

"What happened, Hermione?"

The use of her first name stunned her, never having actually heard him use it. She would have thought it wasn't possible, but there was no mistaking that velvet voice.

"He thought we were s-sleeping together," she sobbed.

When she was met with silence, she continued on without being asked to.

"We've been falling apart for a long time," she explained. "He turned to drinking and he gets quite the temper. But you must know he's never done this before!"

Severus' grip tightened, and Hermione knew it wasn't just out of comfort, but out of anger.

"Regardless of that, Hermione, what he did was unforgivable," he murmured.

Hermione wasn't sure whether he was talking about Ron or someone from his past. The tone he used confused her. Never had she heard him so quiet, so worried.

"He didn't mean to," she replied weakly.

She felt his posture stiffen. "And what happens next time?" he asked in just over a whisper. "What happens when he gets drunk and you have no one there to stop it? I would prefer to not receive an owl in the middle of the night telling me you're in the hospital or dead."

"What do you care?" she asked, unable to help it.

"I understand you are hurt, upset, angry, but kindly do not take it out on me," he said calmly.

"I'm so sorry," she said, hard sobs taking over her body again.

"Shhh," he cooed, as much as Severus Snape could coo. "It may not seem like it, Hermione, but I _do_ care. Why do you think I push you so much? I know you. I know you would not do well without someone to challenge you, to push your limits. You do best under pressure. I do apologize for being harsh with you all the time, but that is how I deal with people I value. You are one of the few."

His declaration surprised her; shocked her, really. She hadn't lied to Ron when she said she wasn't having sex with Severus, but she _had_ left out that she had thought about it. Dreamt about it. Wanted it more than anything. But she was a married woman, and she did value that. But now… Ron had shattered that to pieces. There was no coming back from that and Hermione knew it. She unconsciously stood taller, straighter. She made up her mind; she was divorcing Ron first thing in the morning. She knew she should have months ago, but there was no need to dwell on the 'should haves'.

"You mean a great deal to me, Severus," she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear, her tears slowly drying. "You've taught me so much, helped me be a better teacher."

"You're the best," he replied quietly, and Hermione could hear the hesitancy in his voice.

He had never been the nicest man, but certainly not the worst either. She had grown accustomed to his snappy retorts, his dry humor. She had grown to look forward to their evening meetings, talking until wee hours in the morning. Those were the days she didn't go back to Ron. It wasn't as though she intended to stay away, they just got carried away sometimes. If Severus wasn't yelling at her, they would usually sit and debate topics until nearly sunrise, refilling their tea cups repeatedly. There had even been a day, about two months prior, that Hermione could have sworn he was going to kiss her. He had walked her to her chambers, as he did when their meetings occurred, and lingered a moment longer than normal, just staring at her, not uttering a single word. She noticed his hand had raised ever so slightly, as if he were going to reach for her but thought better of it. Just when she was going to ask, he swept his robes and nearly ran from her, not glancing back as he walked quickly down the corridor.

"Severus," she whispered, her eyes still closed. "Do you remember… do you remember once you told me I didn't belong with Ron?"

He was quiet for a moment. "I told you I regretted saying it the way I did," he said finally.

Hermione chuckled lightly. "You were right, you know."

"I am rarely ever wrong about those things."

She heard the smile in his voice, and she couldn't help but mirror it. "I've come to realize this," she replied. "Do you think there is someone who is right for me?"

He didn't answer for a long time. "Yes," he said finally. "Yes, Hermione. Your passion, your wit, your love, should not be wasted. I do believe there is someone who is right for you."

Tears filled Hermione eyes again. "What about you, Severus?" she asked, knowing she needed to tread carefully. "Do you believe there's someone for you?"

He surprised her by chuckling, a rare but more than welcomed baritone sound. "I've asked myself that dozens of times."

"I think there is," she whispered.

"I'm not entirely sure," he replied quietly. "Not many can put up with me. I am not the nicest man, Hermione. I am not loving, nor am I good at compromise."

"Yes you are," she said. "You're sweet in a rude way, Severus."

"Thank you?"

She laughed. "It's not ideal, but I can see it."

"I don't intend to be rude," he admitted. "My heart was ripped from me the day Lily died, Hermione, you know that."

And she did. Good Lord, she did. He had spilled his heart to her one night, out of nowhere, and they had never spoken about it again. She still wasn't sure why he had, but she had been humbled at the fact that he had told her his story.

"A piece perhaps," she corrected. "You still have a heart, Severus; it's quite obvious to me. You wouldn't be who you are without one."

Hermione felt his forehead rest against her shoulder, his face turning slightly so it was immersed in her hair. He breathed deeply through his nose, and she barely contained the shiver that threatened to go down her spine. She felt his arms loosen around her, his fists slowly opening, his long-fingered hands splaying over her hips and onto her stomach. The tips of his fingers skimmed along her soft yet flat stomach as he rose to full height again, lingering for an immeasurable amount of time before he retracted his arms. She thought he'd pull back completely, step away from her and put up those walls he held onto so desperately, but she was wrong. His hands gripped her hips and she found herself being turned to face her rescuer.

Hermione looked up at him, her soft brown eyes meeting his opal irises, which were now kind and concerned. Severus was a head taller than she was, and she couldn't help glancing at his mouth, which was slightly parted, as though he were going to say something, but had been rendered speechless.

"Have you ever thought about it?" she asked, her eyes on his lips.

"About whether or not I have a heart?"

She smiled. "No," she replied. "About sleeping together."

Never had she seen Severus Snape speechless, let alone falter in his speech, but there was a first time for everything. He opened and closed his mouth, shaking his head and looking down at her in wonderment.

"I… I am not entirely sure how to answer that," he finally got out.

Hermione couldn't stop the blush that took over her cheeks. "Well, either you have or you haven't."

He blinked at her.

"I have," she admitted lowly, looking away from him.

"Don't look away from me," he said quickly. Hermione instantly met his eyes again. "I do not think this is the right time to be discussing this."

"Don't patronize me," she said, feeling suddenly very bold. "Yes or no, Severus?"

His eyes widened slightly. "I do believe you already know the answer, Miss Granger."

"I need you to tell me," she said lowly, pressing her lithe body closer to his.

"Yes," he murmured. "Yes, Hermione, I have thought about it."

With that, Hermione stood on her tiptoes, threw her arms around his neck, and crushed her mouth to his. Severus responded on instinct, grasping her hips more firmly and kissing her back roughly, his tongue quickly gaining access to her mouth. Their tongues tangled, teeth and lips clashing passionately as pent up lust exploded in the air around them. She nipped his bottom lip, his low gasp fueling the fast-growing fire within her stomach. She pressed harder against him, heat radiating off him in waves, creating a dangerous mixture of desire and warmth. Her fingers trailed his neck, threatening to dive into his shoulder length black hair. Her soft caress brought him back to reality.

"I can't do this," he panted, pushing on her hips until she was a full arms length away. "I may be rude but I am far from cruel. You are hurt, vulnerable. I can't."

"No," she said desperately, "please, Severus. I want this."

"You'll regret this," he responded coldly, but she could see his argument faltering.

"I've wanted you for so long," she admitted, her eyes not leaving his, and she saw his resolve crumbling. "I need this. I need _you_. Please… help me forget. Help me wash this away. Only you, Severus Snape…"

Whether it be the tears in her eyes or the honestly in her voice, he wasn't sure, but suddenly he was pulling her back in. His mouth found hers slowly, tenderly, sweetly. Severus' arms encircled her waist, holding her to him as his tongue ran the seam of her swollen lips. She allowed him entrance, her tongue meeting his delicately, accepting the slower pace. The anger, the hurt, the pain, was gradually leaving her, being replaced by his lips, his tongue, his gentleness. She could practically feel the fear being scraped off.

"Hermione," he whispered, his lips brushing over hers.

"Severus," she replied, her fingers stroking the hairs on the back of his neck.

"Are you sure?"

The blatant uncertainly in his voice caused her heart to swell with some emotion she didn't quite recognize, the knowledge this powerful man was just as nervous as she making her choice all the easier.

"Take me," she said against his lips, her voice quiet but unwavering.

Those two words arose goosebumps along Severus' already-heated skin, a shiver of want running down his spine. He pulled away from her, but before she could protest, his hands went to her blouse, his long fingers meticulously unbuttoning it. His eyes widened as he parted the fabric, and he could do nothing but stare at her bared skin as he took the shirt down her arms. He marveled at her defined curves, her soft stomach, her round, full breasts that were concealed by only a thin white bra. He easily unsnapped the bra, his eyes not looking away as he removed it. He unconsciously wet his lips at the sight of her creamy skin, her already-puckered nipples.

"Severus," she gasped as his hands went to her breasts, his fingertips ghosting over her rose-colored nipples.

His eyes closed and his mouth fell open with heavy breaths as he cupped her mounds with both hands, testing their weight, loving the warm, supple flesh beneath his palms.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered.

Hermione's gaped at him, even though he couldn't see her. Hearing him say that, watching the pleasure that lit his face just by touching her, it was too much. She cupped his jaw with both hands and brought him down to her for a searing kiss, her tongue plunging between his teeth. She groaned when he kissed her back passionately, his hands working her breasts harder, his breathing short and sharp. Her hands fell to the top of his frockcoat, fumbling with the buttons and clasps. She felt him chuckle when she made a noise of frustration.

"Would you like help?" Severus asked against her mouth, and she could hear the amusement in his voice.

She could only make a sound of agreement as his tongue plundered her mouth before giving her time to reply. She gasped when suddenly the scratchy material of his robes was replaced with smooth skin.

"How…" she started to ask, but he silenced her with a rough kiss.

His hands left her breasts, trailing along her ribcage, making her shiver. He suddenly pulled her close, and they both gasped as skin met skin, a spark of desire igniting between them. Severus brought his arms up, pushing hers out of the way. His hands found her face as hers found his sides. He raked his hands into her wild hair, something he'd wanted to do for longer than he cared to admit, tilting her face up more, deepening the kiss to an extreme. She clutched his sides, gasping when he groaned as her fingernails dug into his skin. Severus' thumbs brushed her heated cheeks and he slowed their kiss again, relishing in her unique taste. Hermione's hands ran the length of his sides with a gentleness that caused his heart to skip a beat. It felt as though she were memorizing every inch she could reach, which was precisely what he was doing with her face.

"I've wanted this for a long time," he admitted, pulling back just enough to look into her hooded brown eyes.

She smiled brilliantly and pressed her lips to his in a chaste kiss, and then moved to the left and kissed the corner of his mouth, then moved onto his cheek. She continued with small, tender kisses until she reached his neck. As her lips descended to his collarbone, his breathing became heavier, shallower. She took that time to just feel his skin beneath her lips and fingers, the many scars from curses and battle obvious against otherwise smooth skin. She didn't linger on them, for every time she passed one, he would tense just ever so slightly. He gripped her shoulders when her hands found the buckle to his belt, easily sliding the two sides apart before beginning to work on the button and zipper to his trousers.

Severus toed off his boots, trying to keep his composure as her dainty hands pushed down his pants, briefs included. His lips sought hers in a hungry kiss as he stepped out of the garments. He dropped his hands to her waist, quickly finding the clasp and zipper to her skirt, smiling against her lips as she wiggled out of it along with her plain cotton panties. They stood kissing for only a few moments before Hermione stepped away from him, her hands skimming down his toned arms until they found his. Their eyes stayed locked as she walked backwards to her bedroom, not stopping until she hit her queen sized bed.

Severus released Hermione's hands and easily lifted her onto the bed, stepping between her legs and pressing his lips against hers. Without breaking the kiss, she scooted back onto the bed, Severus following her. Once fully on the bed he took a moment to explore her and she him. They shared tender touches, gentle brushings of fingertips on bare skin. Only when his hand sought the apex of her thighs did the kiss break. Her mouth fell open and she panted his name as he slid his fingers between her moist folds, groaning as he found her clearly ready for him. His fingers ghosted over her clit before circling her entrance, unable to help the gasp of sheer desire when he dipped them into her core.

"Please," she begged, "I need you."

Severus gave her a questioning look that she quickly understood.

"Potion," she muttered before capturing his lips in a searing kiss.

Her legs opened further, allowing him to settle comfortably between them. He hitched her legs up further until she put them around him. He pulled away from the kiss, meeting her eyes in an intense look as he lined his painfully hardened arousal at her entrance. Her back arched and her eyes rolled as he slowly pushed into her, his size incomparable to any other man she'd ever been with. He stretched her in a deliciously euphoric fashion, stars bursting behind her eyelids as he finally hit bottom deeply within her. He paused there, burning the feel of her impossibly tight walls around him to memory.

Once her back returned to the bed he began to move within her, slow and deep. Their lips met in a heated kiss, her legs tightening around him as she met him thrust for thrust. His pace increased as her nails sought purchase along his back, spurred on by her gasps and moans. Severus brought a hand to her breast, massaging it roughly before rolling her hardened nipple between his fingers, his stomach tightening as she moaned his name against his lips. Sensing how much he enjoyed it, she said his name again, and again, and again.

Within mere moments, Hermione felt the telltale signs of an impending orgasm. Her legs slid up higher, her knees nearly hitting his arms, her calves resting against his sides. Severus groaned into her mouth, the way her walls began rhythmically clenching around causing him to drive into her yielding body harder. A flash of light burst from behind her eyes and she arched against his chest, breaking the kiss and crying out his name as a powerful release coursed through her veins. Her toes curled inward, her abdomen tightening almost painfully before relief came in the form of a mind-melting orgasm.

Her body shuddered beneath his, her slick inner walls clamping down around his thick girth almost too much for him to handle. But as her nails sunk in deep, her beautiful voice screaming his name once more, her completely soaked heat begging him to come undone, he lost it. With one last, rough thrust into her, he spilled himself in deeply inside her convulsing womanhood, her name torn from his lips as he shook with the force of his release. His arms quaked as he tried to keep himself up high enough to mold his lips to hers, small aftershocks taking them over here and there in the moments after he reluctantly pulled himself from her tight passage.

Only when she broke away to breathe did he gently kiss her cheek and roll off her onto his back. They both lay motionless, save for their chests rising and falling in tandem with deep breaths, neither having the energy to move. It was nearly twenty minutes until Severus broke the comfortable silence between them.

"I need to take care of a few things," he said quietly, almost as if he were afraid to startle her.

Hermione turned to her side, propping her head up on her hand. "Will you stay for just a little while? Please?"

The rare smile gracing his face told her all she needed to know, a pleased sigh leaving her as he slid an arm beneath her, bringing her flush against his side. As she settled against him, an errant vision of Ron crossed her mind and she suddenly stiffened, her body shutting down out of fear. He held her close, placing a small kiss on her forehead and raking his hand into her mane of wild curls. He grabbed Hermione's hand, stretching her arm across his stomach and guiding her head to rest on his shoulder. Severus tenderly ran his fingertips along her scalp, not knowing what words to say. He sighed in relief as she relaxed almost instantly, a deep breath leaving her as she felt a wave of calm wash over her.

"I'll take care of things tomorrow," he said decisively. He hadn't wanted to leave in the first place, but there was nothing that could take him away from her after what he'd just witnessed.

Hermione nodded against his shoulder, snuggling closer, if that were even possible. "I think I may have to keep you tomorrow morning, too."

A light chuckle left him and she felt him shake his head in amusement. "And I may just let you."

_A/N – Please take just a moment out to review and let me know your thoughts! Whether it be one word or a thousand, I do love knowing that you think! Thanks for reading!_


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